


In The Quiet Morning

by anne_belle



Category: Everlark - Fandom, THG - Fandom, The Hunger Games
Genre: Gen, everlark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_belle/pseuds/anne_belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Katniss— I look at you and all I see is pain. I need to know that one day, I'm going to be able to make that pain go away." — Peeta and Katniss must overcome the accident that claimed not only her sisters life, but their unborn child's life, while trying to pick up the pieces. A story of hope, healing, and finding home. — Modern AU Everlark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Quiet Morning

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHORS NOTE: (RE-PUBLISHED)(details at the end of the chapter)
> 
> — Hey all, Emily here. I just wanted to kind of give you all a little update on what's going on. As you can see, I've started a new story. It's a bit darker than I'm used to writing, or that I've ever written, but I'm completely up for the challenge. I'm very excited to begin a new journey with these two characters, and I hope you all are just as ready to go along with me.
> 
> And before I get hounded about it, I guess some warnings should be in order. For all intensive purposes, this story will be rated M. There's a multitude of reasons why I've chosen to do so. One— Profanity. I tend to use a lot of cursing in my stories, though I know that doesn't bother anyone. Two— sexual situations. If you're not comfortable with reading those kinds of things, feel free to skip them. And three— there is going to be a lot of heavy subject matter in this story. And like I stated previously, it's going to be a heavy footed kind of story. I'm going to be depicting the situation of a miscarriage, and also a major character death. I know that's a very sensitive subject for a lot of people, so I'm giving you a fair warning now. I won't be writing anything graphic (no blood/gore/anything, of course), but it will be heavily emotional in a lot of the chapters, and I just want you all to be prepared for that.
> 
> No, I don't enjoy thrusting these characters into the most painful of situations, but it's important to me, as a writer, that I try and evoke such things into my writing. It's a good learning experience. And so, I'm hoping to gain a lot of you all's support throughout this story, for it's very dear to my heart at this point in time. We'll all grow and learn, just like these characters. And don't worry, I love happy endings. You don't have to worry about that.
> 
> Anyways, I really hope that you'll enjoy this first chapter. Leave me a review at the end letting me know what you think. Love you all— enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 

_In The Quiet Morning— Chapter 1_

_I don't think I am alone in stating that there is something twisted about a person who doesn't even acknowledge their own life is burning down all around them. The numbness that seems to fill them to the very core until they feel nothing but emptiness throughout, though the fire still seems to lick at their mind as the thoughts of what they've lost come burning a fiery path through their sub-conscience._

* * *

"Katniss?" His voice breaks through the muddled haze that corrupts her mind, transporting her back into lucidity. "Katniss, will you please talk to me?"

Her eyes, which were once transfixed on the blank wall across from her, now slowly flit to the eyes of her husband. The cold, seemingly lifeless eyes of her husband— the eyes in which reflect her very own sorrow and despair upon herself.

"I need you to talk to me," he whispers, picking her hand up off the table, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. "At least eat something."

She continues to reside silently, unmoving. Her breakfast remains untouched for what must be the third week in a row. There's a part of her that knows her husband is staring into her eyes— begging, pleading for her to give him any sign that she is alive. Okay.

But there's another part, a much larger part, that knows that she'll never be okay. A part that is so deeply rooted inside of herself that— regardless of how much she wishes that things could be different— she'll never be able to forgive herself. She's lost the ability to perceive hope any longer.

"Katniss—" she yanks her hand away as her husband grips it tightly, her eyes darting over to the entry way to the kitchen where their daughter now stands, fiddling with the hem of her knitted sweater. Curiosity fills those round cerulean orbs, and for a moment, they flicker with something she can't quite place.

"Daddy, can you help me in my room? I'm trying to paint something— I need your help." His eyes catch her own for a moment, holding her gaze before it wavers off to their daughters.

"Levin, honey, come here," he motions for her to come sit, and Katniss' eyes follow her all the way— settling herself down upon his lap. His arms wrap around her lithe frame, giggles emanating from the back of her throat as he tickles her sides. "I'll meet you up there in five minutes, is that alright?"

Their daughter puckers her lips in a moment of contemplation, before slowly nodding her head. "Sure, daddy. But five minutes— not any longer." She sticks her finger in his face, adamant in making her point. She hops off of her fathers lap, her eyes searching her own as she walks to stand directly to her right. And for the first time in a long time, their gazes don't disconnect.

Their daughter reaches out slowly, carefully, as if she was a wounded animal. Gently, she takes the free hand lying in her lap and gives it a tight squeeze, her lips turning up into her fathers warm smile.

"I love you, mommy. You're gonna be okay." Katniss blinks a few times, her daughters words bringing her back to lucid consciousness. Though she continues to smile, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around her neck. Slowly, she reciprocates, her arms encircling her daughters waist for what feels to be a precious second, if that, before she's pulling away, all too quickly, placing a feathery light kiss upon her very own cheek.

The words leave her mouth before she's aware she's muttered them— "I love you too." And for the first time in weeks, she's uttered her first words. Both her husband, and Levin, stare at her for a long while, the words still hanging in the back of her throat, fostering an odd sensation to build up within herself.

Her daughters eyes glimmer with false hope as her gaze breaks away from her own, getting hold of her fathers. He gives her a tight smile, in return, before nodding his head towards the staircase. "Go on, I'll be there in a bit." She doesn't say another word before turning and traipsing slowly out of the room. She pivots on her feet for a moment, a small, fleeting moment, before giving Katniss a small wave goodbye.

"Katniss?" Her eyes meet his suddenly, hopeful, from across the table. His voice is filled with such supposition as he speaks. "I know you don't want to talk right now, but— I do want you to know that I love you. And…we're going to make it through this."

She almost wants to scoff, point at him, laugh in his face for having such false presumptions. But she's far too tired to put that much energy into something so meaningless as taunting. No matter how unrealistic— or untrue— his statement may be.

"I think you should see someone—" he pauses. Her eyes fixate themselves on the cold, hard tiles of the kitchen floor, keeping them trained on anything but his fretful stare as he continues to try and catch her eyes. "—anyone. I think it's time. We could even go together, if that's what you want. I'm going to do everything in my power to—"

"No." The voice that leaks from her throat is an unfamiliar sound. The once fluid, melodic tone has turned to fragile stone, seemingly cracking beneath her fingertips. "No."

"What?" he asks. "Katniss, look at me." He's begging, pleading, tugging on her hand until she allows her eyes to lock with his once more. "Please listen. Please be open about this. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need any help." Her voice catches at the end of her sentence, but she swallows the tears nonetheless.

"Just…maybe just think about it, alright? It doesn't have to be right now, or anytime soon, but you need to talk to someone. We— need to talk to someone."

"No. We don't."

"Please, Katniss—"

"Just stop!" Her throat begins to burn from holding back for so long, the scratchiness resulting in a dull ache. Then suddenly, everything begins to resurface, and if she doesn't get out now, she's going to continue to suffocate. "Please, just stop."

She's to her feet in record time, the chair she previously resided now falls to the floor behind her. She's just made it through the entryway when a firm hand wraps around her forearm, pulling her back into something solid. She twists in his arms, pushing—shoving— doing anything for him to let her go. But he's relentless in his efforts.

"Peeta, let me go!" she screams, hot, angry tears finally escaping the corners of her eyes. Biting her lip to the point of drawing blood, she continues to struggle against him, thrashing about violently before her knees finally give out, sending her into puddle of skin and bones. Oh, what a metaphor this is— her body lying against the cold, hard floor. Matching the emptiness inside of her as her face presses against the tile. "Just…let me—go."

"I can't." He drops to his knees, then, scooping her up into his arms, beginning to rock her back and forth. She wishes he would just leave, go, never come back. Leave her here to soak in self pity as she drowns herself in her own grief and sorrow. But at least she's feeling something—even if that something is anger, pain, sadness. It's better than the numb, bottomless void she's been stuck in for as long as she can remember.

"Shh… Shh it's okay. It's okay." His words are muddled nonsense to her, leaving little to no meaning. She knows better than to believe any of it. It's all worthless dialect that is immediately discredited form her mind. If memory serves her correct, she'll never be okay after this.

Her mind begins to blur, the motion from his rocking sending her into a fit of despair. She can feel the walls closing in around her, stealing her away to the darkness once more. She's suffocating, fighting for each and every breath she breathes into her lungs. It's almost as if there's no use in trying anymore, as the air seems to be getting thinner and thinner the longer she gulps for breath. Peeta's arms like a vice surrounding her aren't helping, so she pushes against his chest, shoving him until he finally releases her from his grasp.

Shuffling on her hands and knees until she's able to push herself to a stand, she throws her arms out to steady herself against the tilting of the room. And just as the corners of her vision begin to fizzle out, her knees give once again, her entire world fading to black.

* * *

"I can assure you, Mr. Mellark, your wife is quite alright. She's stable for now, but if you need anything more, please give me a call. I'm leaving you with my personal number as well, before she is discharged, so if I'm not available through my office, you know where to reach me."

The voices from the other side of closed eyelids sound vaguely muddled. Her head throbs continuously against the inside of her skull, her hand automatically lifting to press against the side of her head to stop the pressure— though her arm doesn't make it but a few inches from the bed before it's pulled by something, restricting it's movement.

Her eyes flutter open, then, fluorescent lights burning through her eyes as she struggles to make out the figures now standing in front of her. Though dizziness soon overtakes her, forcing her eyes to a close.

"Katniss." His voice comes out rushed, and though she can't see him, she can feel his hand move to grip her hand in his like a vice. "Katniss, can you look at me?"

Against her better judgment, she slowly opens her eyes, surprised at the proximity of her husbands face to her own. His face is flushed, his hair a disheveled mess as his red, puffy eyes stare back at her with such intensity that she finds herself unable to hold it's contact. Instead, her eyes find the man standing behind him, his arms secured around a clipboard.

"Hello, Mrs. Mellark," he offers. "I'm Dr. Aurelius. Your previous doctor was unavailable today, so I willingly stepped in. I'll be your primary physician for the duration of your stay, so it's asked of you to be open to my help at this time."

She gives no response, her eyes floating back to Peeta's. Swallowing hard, a pain in her left arm achingly makes itself known. She looks, then, noticing an IV, a strong desire to rip it from her arm beginning to surface. For it's only now that the stinging is making itself searingly evident.

"Mr. Mellark, would you mind stepping out for a moment? There are a few things I would like to discuss with your wife, please." Peeta nods slowly, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon her forehead, his hand lingering on her cheek.

"I'll be right outside, alright? I love you." His thumb makes one swipe across her cheek bone before he's standing, making his way out the door.

Katniss keeps her eyes trained on the thin, cotton hospital blanket clenched in her trembling hands, refusing to make eye contact with this man in front of her. She has no desire to be pricked, prodded, and fueled with questions. She's had enough of that, and quite frankly, she could give a damn about the tests they've been running on her since she arrived a short time ago.

"Now, Mrs. Mellark—Katniss. May I call you Katniss?" he asks, already scribbling something across his clip board. She ignores him, her fingers threading together in her lap, fidgeting furiously. His questions are already coming by the time she's had the chance to even look up.

"How are you feeling?" Her eyes immediately lock with his. "Have you been feeling any better? Have you managed to stay on schedule with your medicine? It says here that you've been prescribed a moderate to high dose of Setraline. But, given your current circumstance, I'd like to up that dose to twice the amount you're taking now."

She's practically shaking, her whole body feeling as if she's been lit aflame. Though— it's not anything new, everyone wanting to shove more and more pills down her throat as the days move forward; as if it's going to help anything. As if it's going to make her feel even remotely better. She knows better than to believe something so childish. Do they mistake her as a fool?

"If you wouldn't mind going ahead and taking these for now—" her eyes follow to where his hand is holding out a small paper cup, two red pills being it's contents. His eyes don't even leave his clip board as he holds the cup out to her, completely unaware that she's disregarding him altogether.

"No," she finally croaks, her voice sending heat down her throat at the rare occurrence.

"Excuse me?" He finally looks up, taking light of the fact that the cup containing the pills is still in his hand. "Mrs. Mellark, it's very important to your well being that you—"

"I said no!" she screams, her fists slamming against the mattress. "I've already told them that I'm not taking these god damn pills! You can't force me to take them!"

"Mrs. Mellark, they're only meant to help you."

"Yeah?" she asks, sitting up just a bit straighter so that their eyelines are even. "Well, I've spent enough sleepless nights to know that those fucking pills don't do a damn thing to help quell the pain that I've been feeling. And believe me when I tell you that I have tried, but they did nothing. If anything, they kept me up far more than not." Tears threaten to spill, but she holds them at bay, taking a deep breath of air before squeezing her eyes shut. Dizziness returns, threatening to send her churning stomach onto the floor.

"Careful, you're still very weak," he presses, her eyes finally opening on their own accord. She tugs at the IV at her wrist, twisting and pulling until it loosens. But her hands are quickly compromised as they're lifted by Dr. Aurelius' larger, rougher ones. Her eyes drift up, their gazes locking only inches apart.

"You've been denying yourself food for weeks, Katniss, and your body is beginning to suffer severely. It's a wonder that you hadn't been hospitalized earlier, for it was only a matter of time before this would have become life threatening." He pauses, then, standing from his seat to retrieve a glass of water from across the room. "Your body is shutting down. So we've been giving you the necessary sustenance that you need in able to get you back up to strength— through your IV." He points to the needle stuck in her arm, nodding his head slowly. "It's important that you don't try and rip it out again."

She bites her lip, the dryness of them causing the skin to break against her teeth. It's only then that she notices the dry, scratchiness of her throat. Though she fights off a cough that threatens to bubble up from deep within herself, not wanting to be forced by this man to drink the water he's provided. He's most likely drugged it, anyway.

"Well, since it seems that you have no interest in voicing how you feel at the moment, I'll go find your husband and send him back in." She nods once, watching him disappear through the door with a click.

It's only then that the realization of where she is fully hits her, sending her mind into a mess of memories that she swore she'd never allow to resurface. Painful flashbacks flood her, the attempt at squeezing her eyes shut doing her no good, for the memories only fight back harder against the backs of her eyelids, swimming before her in vivid reoccurrence. The stark white walls, the sterile, sickening scent of the room sending her stomach into a ball of unrelenting nausea.

And the silence, so thick, so quiet that only her own heartbeat can be heard. Other than the beeping of the monitors that continuously pulsate throughout, there's just…silence. Not a breath, not voice, not a cry.

She screams, then, ugly, fat sobs finally allowing themselves to escape her. And suddenly, her eyes shoot open as soon as a familiar pair of hands are on her face, his blue eyes searching her own grey ones madly. He's saying something, frantically wiping at her tear stained cheeks with his thumbs. But all she hears is the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

His lips continue to move, and slowly, his voice finally reaches her as she collapses into his chest. "It's not real—" he breathes, climbing into the narrow hospital bed, his arms securing themselves around her faint body. "—Katniss, it's not real."

She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and for the first time since their arrival home the first time eight weeks ago, she allows herself to really cry. Her tears soak through the fabric of his t-shirt, though she's sure he won't mind. His arms only tightening their hold on her as she practically crawls into his lap, her lips pressed against the side of his neck as her sobs wrack her body relentlessly.

Yet he holds her, oh how he holds her, every now and then muttering his love for her as her nimble finger twist his shirt into her fists, grasping onto him as if he's the only thing left in this god forsaken world. A part of her believes that that's the truth, the entire reality of everything hitting her all at once. And he holds her steady as her fit begins to die, the pain in her chest ebbing slowly as he threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, gently massaging her scalp.

Neither of them speak, both just allowing themselves to be able to fully appreciate the feel of each other once again. She's had little to no physical contact with anyone since her— their— life came to an immediate halt just two short months ago. She didn't want anyone, ever, to touch her again. For if they did, she would surely shatter into a million pieces. Though she supposes it's too late for that— she's already broken.

"I'm so tired, Peeta," she whispers, her eyelashes batting against the skin of his shoulder. His hold on her tightens, his thumb beginning to gently caress her hip through the thin hospital gown.

"Sleep, then. I'll be right here, okay?" His lips go to the crown of her head, leaving them there for a while as he kisses her hair.

She turns onto her side, then, allowing herself to wrap her arm around his middle, fisting his shirt into her hand. This will have been the first time in a long time that they've slept together, for previously, the pain still so fresh in her mind, even the idea of anyone looking at her, let alone touching her, made her feel as if she could just disappear altogether. But in this moment, she revels in the warmth that surges through her. And for the first time in a very, very long time, she feels safe, warm in his arms.

"I love you, Katniss. Please know that we're going to be okay."

As she comes to hours later, she's almost completely unaware of the movement that surrounds her. Of the hushed voices and hurried footsteps. The frantic sounds of chairs scooting across floors. The constant beeping of monitors fills the room as her eyes flicker open, the bright fluorescent lights burning her eyes as she stares straight at the wall in front of her. And her empty bed screams to her, missing a body, Peeta's body, next to hers. The coldness of the room sends chills down her spine, though she tries her best to even her breathing.

With her back turned to the people in the room, she listens as they communicate in hushed whispers, completely oblivious to the fact that she is now awake.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mellark, but I don't think Katniss is stable enough at the moment. I'd strongly advise that she stay over night, just as a precaution." It's Dr. Aurelius' voice that flows through her ears. "We usually like to keep patients like this over night. Especially one's with a history such as her own. She needs this treatment, Mr. Mellark."

"I know she does— but I think we should wait until she's ready. Do you really think it's going to do any good if you try and force her to get better? Throwing her into treatments and therapy without giving her time? She needs time, Doctor." Peeta's voice is think, as if he's holding back something more. "I'm sorry, but it's too soon. She has't even had time to process all of this. It's been less than two months— that's not enough time. Not for something like this."

"I understand, I do. But I believe that it will be to everybody's benefit if we were to start right away." She bites her lip, fighting the urge to scream out. Instead, she fists the sheets, twisting them between her fingertips to the point of turning white. "In fact, I think you should join her. Your daughter, even."

"No," Peeta mutters, and she can tell he's fighting off the urge to raise his voice. "I will not drag our daughter into this. She barely even understands what has happened, and I will not force this upon her. She's a child, she doesn't need to be exposed to this kind of thing right now."

"I understand that, I—"

"Do you? Do you understand, really?" Katniss squeezes her eyes shut, fully well knowing where he's heading. "Do you understand that our daughter has had to watch her mother basically become a walking corpse? She's scared, Levin. She doesn't understand why her mommy doesn't want to talk to her, or read her bedtime stories anymore. She's scared, and I can't bring myself to explain to her in detail everything that has happened these past few months."

He takes a deep breath, his footsteps echoing as he begins to pace. "She knows that Katniss lost the baby, she does. And she understands that she'll no longer be getting a little brother. But she doesn't really know what any of that means. In the mind of a six year old, she doesn't understand the emotional side of that. He was never there for her to see— to understand. The only thing that she even remotely understands is that her Aunt Prim went to stay with her grandfather in the sky." His voice breaks, then, and she can't stand it any longer, finally turning over, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. Grey finds blue amongst the blinding lights.

"Katniss—" he breathes, taking two steps and he's to her in seconds. Her body begins trembling furiously as he takes her into his arms, his hands winding into her hair as he holds her closer than ever. With her face buried deeply into the crook of his neck, she inhales deeply, her wobbly lips straining an unkept cry against his blazing skin. "—I'm here. I'm right here, Katniss."

"Pe—" she tries, her voice catching in her throat. She's not able to finish, her body shaking so violently that she thinks she may crumble in his arms. He begins releasing her, his arms loosening so that he's able to look into her glazed eyes. But she only tightens her arms around his neck, swallowing hard as she pulls him back to her. "Don't let me go," she croaks. "Please, don't let go."

"Never." One of his hands goes to splay across her back, his fingers lacing paths up and down her spine while the other twists its way into her hair. "I could never."

Her eyes drift away, her attention being directed towards the door as it clicks to a close, Dr. Aurelius gone form the room. A sigh escapes her parted lips before she's clinging to him once again, her fingers desperately pulling, grasping the collar of his shirt as she pulls him further into the narrow bed. With her face buried into his chest, she tries her hardest to focus on the beat of his heart, of his erratic breathing beneath her cheek.

And as the pain of what she's lost drifts back to the surface of her memory, the more lost she begins to feel. Never mind the presence of her husband; she feels alone. All the while she's been ignoring it for so long, this emptiness inside of her eating away at her well being for months. Not even the arms that surround her could bring her back to life.

For the first time, she breaks down, choking on breathes as she tries to piece together her words. "I'm sorry—" she sobs, hiding her face in his chest. "I'm sorry!"

Strong hands grasp at her shoulders, as gently as possible, to try and pry her body away from his so that he's able to look straight into her eyes. "Please don't," he whispers, his hands going to either side of her face. "You don't have to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault, Katniss."

His words do nothing to quell the acheiness inside her, her heart teetering on the edge of despair as she spirals into oblivion. A seemingly endless world of pain shoots through her chest, causing her to scream out loud. She's frantic, now, scrambling to get out of Peeta's grasp. But he's not having it, his arms locking around her like she's the last living being on earth.

"Katniss, please!" He's desperate, his hushed whispers harsh against the flesh of her neck. "Please calm down. Breathe— breathe."

She's not getting air, his arms tightening around her like a vice as he tries to restrain her. She gulps like a mad man, throwing her head back against his chest as her eyes squeeze shut, a fresh round of hot tears spilling from the corners. She's screaming, not giving a damn who hears her. Her lungs are emptied by the time she's done, coughing uncontrollably.

She feels herself being turned nearly onto her stomach, a hand lightly beating against her back as she coughs into the roughness of the mattress. Another hand snakes around her waist, holding her to the body against her own. Peeta.

"There you go," he whispers, his hand moving from her back to her neck, pushing her hair aside in able to wipe away the sweat beading down her forehead. "Keep doing that. Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths…"

Her throat burns with a fire so hot as she takes deep breaths, her chest heaving heavily as she rests her forehead against the mattress. The rough, gritty, hospital mattress, she realizes. Her eyes shoot open, then, turning her head to search the white walled room. It's almost the exact same as before. The relentless beeping of the monitors something that has seemed to plague her mind for months, causing her head to spin.

She needs to get out of here before she goes mad. Though, she fears it may be too late for that. _Mad, crazy, terrified._

She can feel the walls closing in around her, the all too familiar darkness threatening to pull her under once more. Painful flashbacks begin to flood her memory, the only thing remaining on her mind being forced to watch her lifeless child taken away from her. Barely eight months along, watching the monitor as a silence so thick fills the room. The lingering feeling of emptiness threatens to swallow her whole. She wants to scream, wishing so badly to disappear and hide among the darkness that seems to beck and call.

Having to hold the lifeless body of her stillborn child, before he even had the chance to take a breathe, had killed something inside of her. A pain so catastrophic— a pain that she didn't even know such a feeling was so capable of being felt.

_She wasn't aware a human could hurt so much._

And then she lost her sister. The same accident that had claimed her unborn's life had seemed to claim her life as well. Taking them both right from her grasp. Right from beneath her fingertips as if it was nothing. And she'll never forgive herself, ever, for as long as she may live.

Shaking, she struggles for breathe once again, fighting to stay above the darkness that threatens to consume her like a raging fire. She screams out once more, the sound ripping through her as if she's being pulled from life itself. Horrifying sobs wrack her body as she tries to hold her sanity. Her vision begins blurring, voices beginning to meld and echo through the darkness that still surrounds her.

"No!" she screams, her body convulsing against her husbands. "Please!"

"Katniss!" Her eyes shoot open, cerulean orbs staring back at her in panic. Wet rivulets fall from his chin as his hands hold her face inches from his own, his hands trembling against her cheeks. "Please, baby. I need you to breathe. I need you to look at me— hey, look at my eyes."

Her frantic eyes search his, her pain reflected back in his own. "Breathe with me," he whispers, reaching beneath her to scoot her up into a sitting position. Her back hits the edge of the bed as he sets himself beside her, grasping her shaking hands in his own. "Look— watch me. Breathe with me. In—" he inhales, and she mimics, taking a deep breath. "Out." They both exhale, their eyes never leaving the others.

"I'm going to get you out of here. We'll go home, I promise." She nods slowly, turning her head away. He grabs her face, then, guiding her to look at him. "I love you so much. And I know you're hurting—" his voice catches as his eyes begin to glisten. "—and I'm going to do everything in my power to make this okay."

She shakes her head furiously, twisting her fingers into his shirt. "I-I can't stay here," she struggles with the words, stumbling over herself. "I can't"

"You won't. I'll get you home." His lips tightly press against the crown of her head, down her face, landing on her own chapped lips. "Just please don't give up."

* * *

"We're back." She lingers on the porch far too long, too unsteady on her feet to make the walk inside by herself. It feels as if the life itself has been sucked out of her, the heaviness of her bones taking a toll on her deprived body. Her blood feels as if it has been replaced with lead, the weight on her shoulders only getting heavier as her mind sinks further into depression.

Peeta walks back out to the porch, winding an arm around her waist as to guide her slowly inside. And as they walk through the doorway, her head lifts at the sound of a throat clearing, her eyes finding their neighbors' Gale's from across the room as he stands from the couch.

"Hey," he whispers gently, shifting on his feet while directing his attention to Peeta. "Um, Levin's upstairs drawing. She's been fed, and she and Madge watched a movie that ended about an hour ago before she had to go back home." Peeta nods, then, securing his hand a tad bit tighter on her back. "She seemed a little upset when she went upstairs, but she asked to be left alone, so I've been down here surfing the television. I hope that's alright."

"She seemed upset?" Peeta asks, his voice growing with concern. "Did she say anything about it?"

"No. She just said she wanted to be alone, and then went upstairs. I tried going after her to see if she wanted to talk, but she didn't. Just said she wanted to draw and that she'd tell me if she wanted to talk later. But that was over an hour ago." Katniss angles her head up to watch Peeta's expression grow rigid, swallowing hard as he clears his throat.

"Okay, well, I think I've got everything now, and I'm sure Madge is waiting for you. So if you don't mind, I'm going to try and get Katniss settled." She looks away, then, listening as Gale's heavy footsteps cross the room, landing just a few inches from herself.

"Have a good night, you all," he says, walking past them and pushing through the door. She waits for the tell tale click of the lock before turning back to face Peeta.

"Good night?" she asks, looking to the floor. She kicks at an imaginary dust ball as to avoid making eye contact with her husband. "Been a while since we've had one of those."

"Katniss…" he starts, reaching for her face, turning it towards his own. "Maybe so, but that doesn't mean anything. He's just trying to help— and he's also trying to help by talking to Levin. He's said that she's actually been very open with him about what's happened."

"She's been talking to him?" she asks, the room suddenly becoming too small for comfort. She falters on her feet, swaying momentarily before Peeta grabs hold of her, slowly guiding her towards the couch. He sits down beside her, then, his knee bouncing rapidly against her own as he stares into her eyes.

"Katniss, he's a child psychologist. Gale was the first person recommended to her after this all happened. Of course she's been talking to him." He's trying to keep his tone even, but she notices his discomfort as the left corner of his lips begins to twitch slightly— a nervous habit he's formed over the years. "I sat down and talked to him a few days ago, and from what he's told me, Levin's seemed to really open up to him about some things."

She inhales deeply, closing her eyes and letting her head fall into her hands. How unfortunate, she thinks, that her six year old daughter has even had the cause to be recommended to a psychologist. Not even recalling the fact that she's actually been talking to one on a regular basis.

"Which is something else I wanted tot all to you about," he says gently, reaching out and grasping one of her hands into his own, stronger ones. "She's scared for you, you know. She asks for you, sometimes. Wanting for you to read to her before bed like you used to. Asking why you won't talk or play with her anymore." She swallows hard, unable to build up the strength to look him in the eyes. "And…she's afraid that…maybe you don't love her anymore."

Her head shoots up, then, her eyes automatically filling with unwanted tears. Is that what she really thinks? That…that she doesn't love her anymore? Oh, how wrong her daughter is to think that she isn't unconditionally loved. She would go to hell and back to make sure their daughter has all the love in the world, yet, she feels as if it is not enough in this moment.

"I've assured her that you love her more than anything, but Katniss, she needs to hear it from you. She needs to know that you haven't completely left her— us, and that you wouldn't for a second want for her to feel unloved, or unwanted." She nods her head, then, her eyes filtering towards the stairs when she suddenly hears them creak. Their daughter may be young, but she's heavy footed, just like her father, and could be heard from a mile away.

Jus then, a familiar head full of long, raven curls makes an appearance, timidly stepping out into the living room with her arms crossed against her chest.

_"Mommy?"_ her little voice penetrates the air, her eyes speaking volumes as they light up at the sight of her sitting here on the couch with her father. She's moving, then, and before she knows it, throwing her arms around her neck in haste. Katniss can feel the wetness from her daughters eyes as the tears leak down her neck. Her arms eventually make their way around her small back, her hands grasping at the girls' worn nightgown as tightly as humanly possible; afraid that if she were to let go, she'd disappear right from her grasp.

"I missed you, mommy." Levin's voice is muffled, her face still buried in her neck, refusing to let go her arms from around her neck. They stay like that for who knows how long. And it isn't until she lifts her head that Katniss notices just how much pain her little girl was suffering. "I'm glad you're home."

"I missed you too, baby," she whispers truthfully, her hand reaching out in order to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her daughters ear. It drifts from her hair to her face, her thumbs swiping away the wetness from her flushed cheeks. She wasn't aware of just how much pain others around her were in, completely oblivious to the fact that they, too, were being affected by her solitary behavior.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, taking her daughter into her arms once more, pulling her into her lap, and wrapping her arms around her lithe frame. She buries her face into her hair, then, inhaling her sweet, yet cinnamony scent. "So, so sorry."

"It's okay, momma," Levin says gently. She raises her head then, beautiful cerulean eyes staring back at her own. "Because I love you. And I love daddy, too. Do you still love me?"

She's taken aback slightly at her daughters question, though under understanding as well as she watches Levin's eyes glisten against the moonlight shining through the cracks in the windowsill. She takes her head and places it against her chest, gently sifting her fingers through her curls.

"Of course I love you, baby. I'll always love you."

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as they flick to her father, then, whilst leaning her head against Katniss' chest. "And you, daddy? You love me too, right?" Her quiet voice squeaks, and though it is barely above a whisper, it fills the silent room. Peeta's eyebrows lift and furrow, his eyes softening against the light of the lamp as he reaches out and strokes the hair atop his daughters head.

"Yeah, baby girl. I love you." Katniss bites her lip, then, pressing her cheek to the top of Levin's head, smoothing her hand along her back, and pulling her close. So impossibly close before she begins gently rocking her back and forth, the motion oddly calming to her. "Your mommy and I both love you. We love you very, very much, okay?"

She can feel her daughter nod her head against her chest, which rises and falls with a yawn. She pulls away, then, looking down at Levin as she begins rubbing her eyes roughly, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. She can tell that she won't last much longer, being it's far past her normal bedtime.

"Are you tired, baby? Did you want to try and sleep some?" Just then, thunder rolls in the distance, signaling an approaching storm. Levin's eyes begin to fall heavy, her head lolling forward before she catches herself. Another burst of thunder, followed by an intense lightning strike that lights up the entire night sky, is what jolts her daughter upright in her lap, her arms automatically reaching over towards Peeta.

"Daddy," she whines, and Katniss allows her to crawl out of her lap and clamor into her fathers, her little arms wrapping around his neck tightly. Her voice in muffled against his shoulder as she speaks, "Will you stay with me?" she asks, her head lifting to look into his eyes. "Please, daddy?"

He blinks twice before answering. "Sure…But how about you sleep with me and mommy tonight. Will that make you feel better, huh?" She nods her head slowly, resting her cheek against his shoulder, her face pointed towards Katniss herself. Katniss gives her daughter a warm smile, and she returns it, her smile turning into a yawn as she tucks her face back into her fathers neck. Peeta stands, then, lifting Levin with him.

Silently, they both walk to their bedroom, Peeta nudging the door open all the way with his hip before gently discarding Levin into the middle of their bed. She curls up on herself, bringing her knees to her chest as she buries her face into the downy comforter.

Katniss jolts, then, at the feeling of Peeta's subtle hand on her shoulder, dragging her down onto the bed alongside him. Peeta settles on one side of Levin, while Katniss settles onto the other. And it's like clockwork, the way Levin somehow finds Katniss moments later, burrowing her face into her hair and she scoots as close as possible to her body. She listens as Levin gives a content sigh, her forehead resting against her own chest. Tentatively, slowly, Katniss reaches out and wraps an arm around her daughters back, pulling her just a little closer.

She catches Peeta's eyes then, shining against the moonlight as he scoots closer to the both of them, sandwiching Levin between them both as he wraps an arm around Katniss' back, holding her close— as close as he can with Levin snuggled between them.

It's been an enormous amount of uncounted days since she's allowed herself to be touched by anyone— let alone her husband and child. And an even longer amount of time since she's been able to find peace at the end of her day. But it's tonight, in the presence of her husband and daughter, that's she's finally able to allow her eyes to drift closed, slowly, as the purply dreamland encircles her.

But it's not dreams that grace her, but nightmares in which chase her through the dark of night.

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE—
> 
> (info about the reposting of this story) — I decided a few weeks ago/month ago to take down this story from my FF and Ao3 account because I thought I had overwhelmed myself. I didn't think I had enough of this story planned out, and therefore wouldn't be able to post as often as a lot of people would like. So I took it down. But now, I'm reposting it because I decided that if I take my time with uploading, I'm sure you won't mind as long as the chapter is good and long, right? So here it is, reposted. Nothing has changed in the chapter, except I edited it a bit and fixed some grammatical errors. But other than that, it's the same. Be on a look out for chapter 2 sometime in the next couple of weeks. I'm working on it after I repost this.) — Thanks for understanding!
> 
> — Hey you all. What a was to start the first chapter to this story, am I right? I'd firstly like to begin by thanking anyone who has made it this far, to the end of the chapter. It's a little bit of a rough start, but I can assure you that it gets better.
> 
> Now, I know a lot of you are probably going to have a lot of questions, and are probably a little bit/really confused. Don't worry, all of the answers to your questions will surely be answered within the next few chapters. I would like you to know, though, that due to the extent and word count of this story (I plan on the rest of the chapters being even longer than this) that updates will come a bit slower. Also hindered by this is the fact that I have multiple other stories going on right now, and they ned my attention just as much. So even though updates may not be as frequent, just know that I'm always writing something. Be it this, or my other stories, you're always going to have something of mine to read if you so want to.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this. And if you did, don't be afraid to shoot me a review. They're greatly appreciated, and keep me going. It also let's me know what kind of content you may or may not want to see in the future, so they're very important to me.
> 
> If you have any problems/concerns, feel free to PM me out it.
> 
> Thanks!— Emily.
> 
> (Also, I'll be posting a couple more BRAND NEW stories coming around December/January, so be on the look out. One is a post Mockingjay story starting with Katniss and Peeta's return to Twelve after the war. The other, well, that's a surprise ;) Thanks for all your love and support!)


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